


In the Details

by Loz



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Friends to Lovers, M/M, Self Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-21
Updated: 2013-05-21
Packaged: 2017-12-12 12:42:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/811708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loz/pseuds/Loz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written on tumblr for the prompt: Scott and Stiles have been together for two months, but Stiles can't stop himself feeling jealous whenever he sees a girl talking to Scott.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Details

Scott smiles at the waitress like she’s saved his life, and hey, knowing Scott’s addiction to apricot pie, maybe she _has_. As with most people, she is not immune to his charms. She leans over further to refill his coffee, the angle putting her fine assets on display. Scott glances, and Stiles can’t actually blame him. He was glancing too. But he adds it to the mental tally he definitely should not be keeping.

This thing between them, it’s so new, but also so old, it tangles him up inside. It’s really hard to know what the acceptable reactions are, if any exist. It’s a horrible confusion between being true to himself, but also being true to Scott, who’s just as lost as he is and isn't deliberately trying to hurt him.

He’s always believed that if he could work harder, talk longer, focus clearer, he’d become whatever the universe demands he should be. He’d be the ideal son, the courageous sidekick, the unwitting hero, the perfect boyfriend to his heretofore straight best friend. He always falls short, every time. He caused the crash that eventually killed his mother, he’s constantly injuring his dad with lies and defiance, he has no clue what he’s doing in the wide world of werewolves, has tried to abandon it all, more than once. And he watches Scott’s interaction with almost any female ever and wonders, “is this the one? Is this the girl that reminds Scott he doesn't like cock?” 

It’s jealousy, plain and simple and petty, and he can’t seem to get over it. It isn't a trust issue. It’s not like he thinks Scott’s going to betray him, because Scott’s gotten a handle on the moon madness now and that’s the only time he’d ever do anything to actively cause Stiles harm. But it’s —- it’s this ever-present awareness that he’s not _good enough_ for Scott to be his, for him to belong to Scott.

Scott is naturally loving and compassionate and idealistic; everything Stiles struggles to be on those days when he has negative fucks in his reserve. The days that are getting more frequent. Scott’s like that for everyone, too, not simply the select few he pins his hopes and dreams on. And, sure, sometimes his persistent need to save everybody, his compassion and idealism and basic trust that others will do good too can sometimes fuck everything to hell, but he’s noble in a way Stiles will never be.

It’s entirely possible Stiles is having a pity party that’s in dire need of alcohol. He digs deeper into his apple pie, loading his fork with as much whipped cream as physically possible.

“Oh, wait, I almost forgot. I got you something,” Scott says suddenly, rolling up his sleeve until his bicep is showing.

Stiles pouts around his fork for a second, eyebrows drawing down, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing. There’s a constellation of moles on Scott’s skin, just above his elbow, in an arrangement that feels like a pattern, even though it doesn't seem to adhere to any he can think of. It wasn't there two days ago. Stiles had his tongue on this very spot and the skin was completely clear. He leans in, examines each circle. They’re tattooed.

“You got this for me?” he asks, finger tracing over each mark gently, reverently. The skin’s healed, but Stiles is well aware how painful it is for a werewolf to get a tattoo. He was there for Scott’s first, for the screams and the bitten lips, for the glowing eyes and need for restraints. He isn’t paying attention to Scott’s reaction, so he’s surprised when Scott wraps around his wrist, then lines up their hands and interlaces their fingers.

“What does it signify?” he queries, feeling he should know, but knowing he doesn't.

“It’s a small part of you imprinted on me,” Scott answers. He uses his free hand to drag Stiles’ own sleeve up, locate the exact same array. “You said you wished you could mark me, the other night. Leave your sigil on my skin. I wanted that too.”

There’s no adequate response. His throat’s so tight he wouldn't get the words or phrases out even if any came to mind. Scott’s watching him, dark eyes warm, but also wary, like he’s relying upon Stiles’ reaction.

“Thank you,” Stiles says. “I don’t deserve —”

“Dude, I know. You deserve so much more.”

Stiles sucks in a breath, lets it out with a shaky sigh. He presses the back of Scott’s hand to his lips and kisses, long and slow. Scott smiles at him like he’s saved his life, and the truth is, he has. They've saved each other.


End file.
